This sort of thing usually happens to Bourbon Samurai

One way to tell if last night was a lot of fun; when you wake up, check you body for horrible scars that you can’t explain.

Last Friday, Arsenal invited me and some of the boys out for some happy hour drinks with him, his lady, and his lady’s co-workers. Uber260, Kodez, and I met them at Rodeo, a sort of dive bar with free peanuts and cheap Mexican beer. We gorge on both. Around 8, Uber260 leaves to go do a show, and we decide a meal is needed. Some co-workers of Lady Gunner recommend a Mexican place on Houston. While I was leaning more towards Blue Smoke, we went with the 2 co-workers, a married couple, mostly because they kept saying “We have to have fun, because we got a sitter for the kid tonight.” Now, hearing that, a red alert should have gone off in my head and I should have ran, but the wackiness of tying one on with some little girl’s parents was too amusing to me at the time, so I went with them.

Now this ‘Mexican place’ they wanted to go to was really a giant faux Mexican club that served food before all the tables are cleared away to make a dance floor. Again, a red alert ignored. We grab some space at the back of the bar and order more cheap Mexican beer, and some empanadas. My plan was to share the food, but by the time it came out, I was so hungry I ate it all myself. After a while Uber260 met up with us, bringing Slaggard. I talked to the husband who brought us here, as he spoke of how he would come to this place all the time when he was ‘single’. I think I shivered just writing that. No surprise, he went on and on how smart his kid was, because everyone’s kid is goddamn genius. I want to know what happened to these kids between all the great things they do to wow Mom and Dad and to when I meet them, and they can’t figure out how to work the Chipotle menu (my new pet peeve; come on people it ain’t Le Cirque, Black beans or Pinto). We drank for a while, until I hit that point where my lizard brain starts to take over, and my lizard brain demands that I return home and get away from these annoying mammals (My lizard brain really hates people, but has a great sense of direction).

I collect Kodez and Slaggard, and we go looking for a cab. Sadly we are on Houston on a Friday night and it begins to snow, so the cabs are not to be found. We almost grab one, but some lame dude on a date starts screaming at me that it is his cab and he has been waiting for hours for it, and keeps yelling at me even after I give up the cab (while he is screaming at me, someone else gets the cab, which means lame dude on a date 0, Me 1).

We begin walking to Union Square, deciding that if we can’t get a cab by then we would take the train. As we are walking, I spot what I think is an open cab. I run to catch it, but the street is wet and I am wearing my work shoes (and yes, I had been drinking, but again I fall down a lot sober, so unfair to blame that). I go down; right on a subway grate, but I catch myself with my left hand and right knee, so no major damage. We head over to Union Square in defeat, but I notice that my knee and hand still hurt. When we get into the subway, I notice my pants are stained with red, but not ripped in any way. I pull up my pants, and see two huge deep gashes on my knee gushing blood. I also check my hand and see the butt of my palm also has a hideous cut on it. I spend the entire train ride home screaming about my injury, not because it hurt but more because I was bleeding all over my work kakis. Slaggard, a man who often busts himself wide open, tended to my wounds when we get to my place. He does somewhat over-wrap my wounds, so when I went to bed I looked like I was going to a kickboxing match.

I still woke up the next day at 8:30 am and went to Nevadas, bandaged and all.